


Katie Issel

by thinkwinkink



Series: When Call The Children [1]
Category: When Calls the Heart (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-19 17:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14878226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkwinkink/pseuds/thinkwinkink
Summary: Children don't always behave. Sometimes they play little practical jokes, sometimes they eavesdrop on adults. Sometimes they see a Mountie and a teacher being cute.(set during their courtship)





	Katie Issel

**Author's Note:**

> I remember when I was little, we were super invested in the private lives of our teachers. Imagine if we had gotten to see the two local authority figures fall in love.

There was a twitter of anticipation amongst the boys in front of Katie Issel that only ever meant one thing: someone was about to do something naughty. Nothing sent a frisson of energy through young boys like the prospect of mischief. 

Miss Thatcher was going over the homework expectations for the evening at the front of the room, and didn't seem to notice the agitation in the fourth row, with the whole room getting antsy to leave. 

“And those of you in the upper group, I want you to read the next three pages and answer the questions at the end of the chapter,” she finished. She grinned as she rang the cowbell to let them out for the day. 

They all chorused a goodbye to their teacher as they scrambled for their coats and their things at the back of the room. 

Katie lingered warily in her seat, slowly stacking up her books, watching for whatever trick was about to unfold. 

As Jamie Barr hustled down the aisle from the front row, where he had been made to sit all day for pulling Opal’s hair, the boys made their move. 

Joseph lifted a piece of paper rolled into a loose cone to his lips, blowing sharply at the small end. This sent a hundred tiny pieces of ripped newspaper into the air, showering down over Jamie. The boys next to Joseph hooted with laughter, while Jamie lunged at them. It was all in good humour, but Katie slid off the pew and stumbled away from the action all the same. 

“Boys! Enough of that!” Miss Thatcher cried, holding a book up to cover her face as she flailed an arm between the boys in an attempt to break up the tussle. 

“Jamie, head home, and try to shake off that newspaper  _ outside _ , please,” she commanded.

He nodded and complied, silently picking up his lunch pail and leaving. He hung his head as though defeated, but Katie saw the cheeky grin on his face as he passed her on the way out. 

“Boys, clean this up,” she directed at the rest. 

They grumbled slightly, but started scooping up the confetti into the sheet they had used to launch it all. 

Miss Thatcher eyed them for a minute, but then returned to the front of the room to arrange her own things. 

Katie made her way to the back of the room, taking the string she kept in the pocket of her coat out and tying her books together so she wouldn't drop any on the walk home. 

She heard Miss Thatcher approve the boys’ handiwork, and they promptly ran out of the schoolhouse. 

“Katie, do you need help with tying that?” came her gentle voice, accompanied by the sweet scent of some kind of special flower that always surrounded her, as she came to stand behind where Katie was carefully making loops in the string. 

“No, thank you, Miss Thatcher,” she said, shaking her head. “I can do it by myself.”

“Alright,” she said, making to return to the door. 

“Miss Thatcher,” greeted a cheery drawl as heavy steps climbed the stairs. 

“Jack,” she replied. Katie heard the same half-concealed excitement in the teacher’s voice that always came to the surface when she spoke to Mountie Jack. 

“I came to offer to carry your books for you,” he said, and though she couldn't see him, she could hear he wore that wide smile that made the children in town like him and the older girls in the class giggle and blush. 

“How considerate,” Miss Thatcher laughed. “To think I was getting ready to carry them all myself.”

“Heaven forbid,” he laughed, still outside. 

Miss Thatcher picked up a thick, leather-bound tome from the wooden sideboard and added it to the small pile in her arms. She stepped outside, arms outstretched to hand them over. 

Katie didn't listen to the light conversation the adults shared on the little porch of the church, busy with finishing her neat little bow and shrugging into her coat. 

At last, she collected her books, her lunch pail, and headed for the door. Miss Thatcher and Mountie Jack must had have left, because they had stopped laughing. 

As she stepped through the doorway, though, she froze. 

The hand Mountie Jack wasn’t using to hold the pile of books sat on Miss Thatcher’s back, pressing her close to him. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, his hat dangling from her fingers and out of the way. Neither of them seemed to remember that she was there, now awkwardly frozen in the doorway. She didn't want to stay and spy, but she didn't feel she could interrupt by simply walking out. 

She scurried back behind the wall, resolving to wait until they stopped and then walk past as though nothing had happened. 

She peeked out ever so carefully. 

Still embracing. 

She waited. Peeked. 

Still no luck. 

After what seemed like an age, Mountie Jack let out a quiet laugh that didn't sound like it was obscured by anything blocking his mouth. 

“What?” she asked softly. 

He just laughed again. Unbearably curious, Katie risked peeking with one eye. He was grinning as he raised a hand to her hair, gently pulling free one of several little bits of newspaper from the rolled hairdo she wore today. 

“What's this?” he asked, holding it up for her to see. 

“Oh,” she sighed. “Some of the boys covered Jamie in a mountain of this stuff. I was right behind him, not much of it hit me.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, reaching up to carefully pluck another little bit from her hair.

“Comparatively, at least,” she corrected. 

Katie thought it seemed safe enough to make herself known, so she straightened up and walked out of the school as casually as she could manage. 

“A bit late in the year for snow, don't you think, Katie?” Mountie Jack laughed by way of greeting as he brushed two of the little shreds of paper off Miss Thatcher’s shoulder. 

She bobbed her head politely, choosing not to point out the little white squares that clung to the front of his smart red coat from where it had touched Miss Thatcher. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Thatcher,” she said instead. “Good afternoon, Mountie Jack.”

She trudged past the two of them and down the steps. They each bid her a cheery farewell, but she hurried away without meeting their eyes. 

Over the crunching of her boots on the damp gravel, she heard Mountie Jack talking again, that special wry yet bashful lilt to his speech that Katie strongly suspected would lead up to another kiss. 

She hustled down the path without looking back, cool air welcome against her burning cheeks. 


End file.
